


Keep Breathing

by KayLingLing7



Series: Dialogue Prompts [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, Anxiety Attacks, M/M, bad trip on recreational drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 21:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4762448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayLingLing7/pseuds/KayLingLing7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a Tumblr dialogue prompt: "Look at me--keep breathing!"</p><p>Bertholdt doesn't like parties, but he decides to go to this one anyway, because maybe he'll get to talk to his crush, the popular and kind Reiner Braun. But things kind of go wrong in a big way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Breathing

Bertholdt is, generally, not a fan of loud noises and crowded areas. So a house party held by the largest and most rambunctious frat in Trost U would be the last place one would expect to see Bertl.

And yet here he was.

He’d come to the party because his lab partner in his chemistry class had invited him, eager to find some way to thank Bertl for being so patient with him during the paper they’d been working on. Bertl wasn’t going to take him up on the offer, except that he knew that frat. That was the house that Reiner Braun belonged to – one of the most popular, most _ripped_ boys in school. Bertl had a few lecturers with him, and had even had a few stunted conversations with him (each one of them involving Bertl stammering and sweating while Reiner just smiled at him encouragingly, giving Bertl a pat on the shoulder when the conversation ended with a wide grin and a “see you around, all right?”). Safe to say it hadn’t taken long for Bertl to develop a crush on the blonde rugby player, having always found it impossible to resist anyone that looked bigger and stronger than he himself was.

Bertl walked into the party hesitantly, his heart beating in time with the loud bass moving through the house, the vibrations felt though his feet and jarring his hearing. The place was already crowded, students lining the walls holding red solo cups and shouting, laughing, some dancing either lewdly or ridiculously. 

Bertl felt at a loss, standing in the entry way of the impressively large house with a hand firmly clasped to the elbow of his opposite arm, his shoulders hunched in to try and not bring any attention to his tall frame. After a moment of idling in the doorway, he decides to make his way to the kitchen in the hopes of getting a glass of water or a cola. What he finds instead is none other than Jean Kirstein, nearly bumping into him as he rounds the doorway into the kitchen.

“Shit- Woah watch it!” Jean cusses, trying to steady a tray in his hands before any food falls off onto the floor.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Bertl exclaims, biting his lip as he reaches out to Jean, his hands hovering uselessly before the other boy.

Jean, having successfully wrangled the tray back into his control, finally looks up. “Oh, hey Bertholdt! You made it!” Jean smirks up at the taller boy, before lifting the tray in his hands. “Hey, you want a brownie? They’re straight out of the oven.”

Bertl eyes the offered treats on the tray before hesitatingly taking one, a small thank you leaving his lips as he takes a bite of the dark chocolate. He feels a bit more comfortable now that he’s seen someone he knows, but that comfort is quickly dashed when Jean looks around Bertl into the living area. 

“Shit, sorry Bertholdt, I need to get these to Connie and Sasha before they eat the coach.” he glances back up at Bertl, a smirk on his face once again. “But, hey, I’m glad to see you made it. Go ahead and make yourself at home. There’s drinks in the kitchen and a pool table in the basement.”

Before Bertl can even reply Jean is gone, moving in the direction of the crowded room Bertl had just vacated. Bertl sighs, taking another bite of the brownie. It’s good, he thinks as he chews, still hot from the oven and not too dry. He makes a note to compliment Jean on his baking skills next time he sees him, and heads into the kitchen to look for something to drink.

* * *

Around 20 minutes after arriving at the party Bertholdt is pushing his way through the crowded living room and breaking through the back door of the house. His heart is beating at what feels like a thousand miles an hour and he just needs _air_ , godammit, letting the cold night hit him in the face like a sudden rush. 

The patio is thankfully deserted, and once he closes the door the noise of the party is dimmed to a certain extent. Bertl takes in a deep breath of air, but it doesn’t seem to help. His heart keeps going and his skin feels like ants are crawling all over him, goose bumps rising on his arms. He gasps again before moving further down the patio and falling to the floor on his ass, hard, pulling his legs up into his chest and rolling himself into a ball. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s there, but it feels like hours. He tries to figure out in his head what is happening to him, but his mind is sluggish and every attempt to calm down just ends with him gasping, he eyes watering and his heart going like a hammer in his chest. He’s still sitting in the same place, rocking back and forth, when he hears the sound of a door opening and closing over the noise of the music inside.

Berlt doesn’t look up, but he stops breathing, his hands digging into the skin of his arms as he prays that whoever came outside won’t see him. The last thing he needs right now is some stranger sneering at how weak he is – how can a man as big as Bertl be such a complete and utter mess? What is _wrong_ with him?

It’s quiet for a moment, then Bertl hears the soft sound of the stranger’s feet on the wood of the deck beneath them. Bertl lets out a shaky breath, a mantra going through his head of _please don’t see me, please don’t see me, please don’t-_

“Hey, are you okay? 

Shit.

“Wait, Bertholdt? Is that you?”

Bertl’s screwed-shut eyes fly open, staring down at his lap. Fuck. He knew that voice. That was Reiner. Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Hey, hey, Bertholdt, are you okay?” Reiner’s voice sounds worried, but it’s faint in Bertl’s ears, drowned out by a load buzzing in his head. “Okay, Bertholdt, I’m going to touch your shoulder, okay?” There’s a long pause and then Bertl feels a warm weight on his shoulder. He flinches at the contact, but does nothing to shake him off. It’s... nice, actually. Reiner’s hand is big and warm and somehow it makes Bertl feel safe. The noise is still in his head, and his heart is still beating against his ribcage, and there’s a cold sweat crawling over his whole body, but having Reiner besides him is helping, somehow.

“Okay, Bertholdt, I need you to breath for me, you hear me?” Reiner’s voice comes again, and Bertl thinks it’s weird, because of course he’s breathing, how could he not be? But – oh, now he realises what Reiner means. His breaths are coming out fast and shallow, and the realization of that fact just causes it to get worse, Bertl’s eyes widening at the fact that he can’t seem to control it.

“Okay, no, Bertholdt. Can you try and look at me? Come on, we can breathe together.”

Bertl makes an effort to lift his head from his knees, but it’s hard, it’s so hard. His head is heavy and full, and at the same time it’s light and foggy, and-

“Look at me, Bertholdt! Keep breathing. Come on, we can do this. Breathe with me, okay? In 1, 2, 3... Out 1, 2, 3... In, 1, 2, 3...”

Reiner continues to count, and Bertl tries to match his rhythm, focusing his attention on Reiner’s bright amber eyes until his head feels a little less floaty and he realizes his breathing is back to normal. He looks down for a moment and when he looks up again Reiner is smiling at him, a kind and concerned expression painted over his strong features. “You okay there, Bertholdt?”

Bertl manages a nod before he tries his voice. “I- uh. Yeah, I’m better.”

Reiner’s smile broadened slightly, before he frowned. “Do you know what... set you off? Was it the noise or did someone do something?”

Bertl shook his head. “No. Um. I don’t know, I was sitting inside and then suddenly my heart suddenly started going crazy and I-” Bertl stops that train of thought with a deep breath in and out. 

Reiner’s frown deepens, rubbing reassuring circles into Bertl’s back. “Did you drink anything someone else gave you? Or eat anything?”

Bertl shakes his head again. “No. I just had a can of cola from the fridge. And some chips from the snack table.” Something clicks in his head. “Oh, but Jean gave me a brownie when I first got here.”

Reiner’s quiet for a moment before he sighs. “Okay, yeah, that explains it.”

“What? Why?”

“Because the only thing Jean knows how to bake are pot brownies. And you’ve obviously just been a victim of a bad trip.” Bertl stares at Reiner shock until he gives Bertl’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, I have some really mild sedatives you can take to calm you down. And then you can come upstairs with me and we can watch some cartoons or something, because it’s going to take a few hours for you to come down and I’m not letting you be alone until then.” 

With a final clap of Bertl’s shoulder Reiner is dragging himself to his feet and offering a hand to Bertl, still sitting on the floor, his head craned up to stare at Reiner for a long moment. His heart is still beating at a thousand miles an hour, but now he thinks it’s for other reasons.

Tentatively he takes a hold of Reiner’s hand and hoists himself up onto his feet. 

“There we go,” Reiner smiles, and there’s a long moment before he lets go of Bertl’s hand.

They sneak upstairs, avoiding the crowds as much as possible, and when they get to Reiner’s room Bertl is given a lukewarm bottled water from a stash under Reiner’s desk and a Benadryl from an emergency supply in Reiner’s well-stocked First Aid kit (apparently he did a First Aid course back in high school and took it very seriously), and then they sit down next to each other on Reiner’s bed, Reiner’s laptop balanced on their knees as they watch Steven’s Universe into the small hours of the night, something that Bertl has never watched but that Reiner insists is the best cartoon in existence (after a few episodes, Bertl has to agree). 

Somewhere along the line they must both have fallen asleep, because when Bertl wakes up the next morning he finds himself using Reiner’s chest as a pillow, the blonde snoring softly next to him with his arm tucked under Bertl’s chest and around his back. Bertl sighs and closes his eyes again, nuzzling further into Reiner’s warmth. 

For the first time in a long time, Bertl doesn’t feel anxious about anything.

**Author's Note:**

> My search history after writing this was just full of searches for info marijuana, bad trips, and pot brownies. I hope I got everything relatively correct.
> 
> If you want to send me any prompts please feel free to, my Tumblr is smutindevelopment.tumblr.com


End file.
